


empty spaces in my soul (right where you belong)

by HearJessRoar



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, alex mercer is a good boyfriend, rated t for tender, theyre so gentle with each other u guys save me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HearJessRoar/pseuds/HearJessRoar
Summary: It's been awhile since anybody has been affectionate with Willie.Alex doesn't really think twice about it.or, five times Willie gets the kiss he deserves instead of the kiss he wants.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters & Willie, Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 374





	empty spaces in my soul (right where you belong)

It doesn't take him long to figure out that Alex is an affectionate person, but only on his own terms.

And for as much time as he spends with Luke and Reggie hanging all over him, Alex is unusually hesitant to initiate contact himself. Willie isn't sure if it's because their whole dynamic is different than what he has with his bandmates, or if he's just like that.

Because from what he's observed, Alex is just as tactile as Luke, but more _careful_ about it. Like every time he reaches out, it _means_ something.

(He doesn't want to think that it's Alex being subconsciously scared to touch another boy, scared to give affection that could be misinterpreted, scared because of the era they grew up in, because that same ingrained terror is sewn into his bones too, and they're _dead_ it's not the 80s, it's not the 90s, it's _now_ but that deep rooted fear doesn't shake so easily-)

Regardless, that's why it always takes him by surprise when he finds himself wrapped up in Alex’s arms. And heaven help him, it’s Willie’s favorite place to be now.

There’s something about the way that Alex holds him, hangs on to him like he’s something precious, that makes Willie’s head spin. He wants to see himself the way Alex does, because there’s got to be something he’s missing about himself for Alex to hold him that way, like he’s invaluable and if Alex lets go too soon then he runs the risk of losing him forever.

Willie admits he hasn’t done much to disabuse him of the notion, since their relationship started with him constantly running away and Alex chasing after him. It’s hard to move past things like that, and his instinct is still flight out of fight or flight, but Alex’s tendency to follow him even when he shouldn’t isn’t something Willie wants to take for granted.

So yes, the hugs were bad enough at unbalancing him and making him melt and turning his brain into oatmeal, but then Alex had to go and do all the things he did next and Willie is pretty sure he’s gonna be the first ghost to get hit by both a literal and an emotional truck.

Alex is in a somber mood when Willie swings by the studio. He’s behind his kit, drumstick spinning between his fingers, and absently worrying his bottom lip as he stares blankly into space.

Willie drops his board by the sofa and approaches, leaning over the drums. He uses his thumb to pull Alex’s lip out from between his teeth. 

“Hey, don’t chew on that, that’s _mine_ ,” he says, just to see how fast Alex can go scarlet.

He doesn’t disappoint, a very pretty shade of pink dusting across his cheeks, his nose scrunching up in the cutest way as he makes a face at Willie.

But he's missing the usual spark behind it, and that concerns him. So Willie picks his way behind the kit, Alex spinning around on his stool to stay facing him.

When he makes it all the way around, he's startled when Alex immediately face plants into his chest. Willie stumbles a little, but manages to prop him up, his hands automatically coming to rest on Alex’s shoulders. Alex’s arms wind tightly around his waist, pulling him impossibly close.

The drumstick hits the cement floor with a clatter behind him, and Willie winces.

"What's up?" He asks.

Alex grumbles and he can feel it in his ribs. It's...definitely not a bad thing.

"Just one of those days?" He guesses. Alex nods against his shirt. Willie can’t help the smile that tugs at his mouth; Alex is too cute, even when he’s having an off day. 

He moves to card his fingers slowly through Alex’s hair, taking care not to snag any strands with his rings. Alex sighs against him, his shoulders slumping.

And Willie is content to stay in that moment, but Alex tilts his head to look up at him with one eye, the other half of his face still pressed firmly against his chest, and Willie can’t help that he laughs.

Too cute.

“You laughing at my bad day, you walking speed bump?” Alex mutters. Willie snorts, and tugs on Alex’s earlobe.

“That’s rude.”

“ _You’re_ rude,”

Willie sticks his tongue out at him, still unable to help the giggles that shake his shoulders. Alex pulls away just slightly, his hand snaking up to clutch onto the key and chain that Willie wears around his neck. The part of the chain that's double looped around his throat tightens, and Willie has to lean down before it chokes him.

He doesn't mind, though. Not when he knows what comes next, and his eyes are already closing in anticipation as Alex’s other hand comes up to guide him, his fingers pressing into the hollow under his ear-

Alex presses a kiss to the underside of Willie’s jaw, and he opens his eyes again, his unkissed mouth practically tingling with neglect.

He pouts and Alex laughs.

~

Reggie has discovered internet streaming services on Julie’s laptop, and while nobody has implemented an official movie and TV night, somehow they keep ending up in front of the screen, whatever Reggie is currently binging flickering away in the dimmed lights of the studio.

His pick of the night is _Green Acres_ , which Luke keeps teasing him for, but nobody has made much of a move to change it. Julie’s never seen it, and Willie used to watch it with his mom, but he's pretty sure he hasn't seen a rerun since 1987.

He's camped out on the floor in front of the couch, watching Eva Gabor talk to Eleanor the cow when he feels a tug on his hair.

That's his only warning before Alex’s fingers start combing through it. Willie leans back a little further to give him better access, and doesn't take his eyes off the show.

It can't be a great angle, since Alex is lying down on the couch behind him, his legs slung over both Reggie and Julie’s laps, but he's dutifully untangling the windblown snarls that formed earlier when Willie had been cruising the pier. He's pretty sure Alex can't see the screen because his head is in the way, but Alex doesn't seem to care.

It’s soothing, the repetitive motions and the gentle way Alex pulls apart the knots with his fingers when he encounters them. 

Reggie clicks the next episode with the wireless mouse before anyone can complain, rolling right into the theme song. Luke is snoring softly on Julie’s other shoulder, pressed tightly to the side of the couch with Alex’s feet on his thigh. There isn’t a whole lot of room on the sofa, and Willie doesn’t mind that he’s on the floor tonight. He’d shown up late, after all.

 _And if being late gets me this, I might be doing it more often,_ he thinks as Alex moves his hand, brushing Willie’s hair over his shoulders and out of the way of his next target. He traces little shapes into the back of Willie’s neck with his fingertips, tiny stars and hearts that have Willie practically melting backwards into the edge of the couch cushion.

He does that for most of the episode, and Willie thinks it might have been about Mr. Douglas not being able to sell his apples, but he can’t be sure because Alex’s hand on his skin is warm and distracting and while he doesn’t have the calluses on his fingertips that Reggie and Luke probably do, his are on insides of his fingers where he holds his sticks, and that rough skin keeps catching on the short hairs on the back of his neck, raising goosebumps there and making him shiver.

The episode ends, and when the credits roll instead of the next episode, Willie realizes that everyone else is asleep. Reggie has dozed off with the mouse grasped dangerously loosely in his hand, and Julie has her forehead pressed to his shoulder. Luke has shifted in his sleep, his temple in the crook of Julie’s neck, and Willie smiles at their little found family.

He almost turns to tell Alex… _something_ , he can’t remember _what_ , because Alex’s hand slides around his neck and down his collarbone, resting over his heart. For a moment, that’s all there is to it.

And then Alex has his lips pressed where he’d just been drawing stars on the back of Willie’s neck and if Willie’s heart was still beating, he’d be embarrassed beyond belief because Alex would be able to feel it stumblestep a mismatched rhythm the second he does it.

He reaches up to hold Alex’s wrist where it’s still resting against him, and moves it so he can reach, pressing a kiss to the spot between Alex’s thumb and index finger.

“Sap,” Alex whispers.

“You started it,” Willie murmurs back, unable to keep the smile from his voice.

~

He’s having.

A Bad Day.

Well-

Okay, it’s not like, _terrible,_ he could very objectively be having a worse day. He could be getting zapped. His board could have been taken away. Alex could be mad at him. He could have wiped out on the pier and gone straight into the water.

Lots of things could be happening to make it a way worse day.

But Willie is feeling all twisted up inside anyway. He’d popped by the HGC last night because he does technically _have to_ or Caleb could call in his claim on his soul, which Willie would very much like to avoid for as long as possible because he isn’t sure exactly what that would do to him. And Caleb hadn’t spoken to him and that would have been fine except he kept _glaring_ from across the room, and Willie is pretty sure that Caleb knows he tried to help the guys cross over. 

And the fact that Caleb probably knows and hasn’t punished him yet for it is kind of terrifying.

So yeah. All these feelings are snarled up in his chest and all he wants to do is go sit in his empty museum while it’s still closed for renovations and scream his whole head off until he feels better about _life-notlife_.

Except he did that already, and he doesn’t feel any better.

His throat is starting to feel raw and he knows his voice is gonna be hoarse for days after this but no matter how loudly he yells he can’t shake the feeling that _nothing is gonna get better no one is gonna save me heavenmomgodSOMEBODY-_

None of them answer.

Willie slumps onto the first place he can find that’s appropriate for slumping dramatically. It turns out to be the same bench Alex had helped him move. Despite his mood, he’s a little amused that nobody has put it back.

Their museum was haunted and they didn’t even _care_.

He lays down on the bench to face the ceiling, his legs bent at the knee to keep his feet flat on the cement slab. There’s nothing to look at up there, but it feels right for how his brain has nothing up there, either.

Nothing but some anxiety and guilt.

He groans and drops his forearm over his eyes.

Maybe he can just live in the museum from now on. Caleb could loan him out as a rent-a-ghost, maybe make a profit and never have to look at his traitor face again. He’d love that.

That’s completely nonsensical and ridiculous, but hey, it almost made him laugh.

Because the thing was, he’d really liked Caleb for a long time. The man wasn’t exactly warm or anything, but Willie got along with him just fine. He’d never had anything to worry about, despite the knowledge that Caleb quite literally owned his soul, because he’d never done anything to make Caleb pay too much attention to him. He was a good employee, a good errand runner, never did anything that he wasn’t supposed to when it came to the club.

And if he got his kicks tormenting the local police department, then Caleb was willing to look the other way.

Things were good for a long time. He’d had a place to go.

And then he’d tried to skate through Alex and subsequently ruined _everything._

That was dramatic. Did it really count as ruining if the thing you broke wasn’t nearly as good as the thing you broke it for? Because Alex was worth everything he’d lost and then some.

He thinks that Caleb had been counting on him being willing to betray Alex for the club, but he just. He couldn’t. He’d known from the second Caleb had sent him away on the dance floor that everything was about to come crashing down around his ears and if he was gonna be stuck standing in the dust and the rubble, then he wanted to at least be holding Alex’s hand.

The fact that he can think that without a shred of doubt in his mind should probably scare him.

It doesn’t.

“Thought you might be here.”

Willie startles, his arm dropping from his face, swinging down to dangle off the bench. Alex stands there like he’s always been there, his hands in his jacket pockets and concern etched across his features.

Willie furrows his brows. “Man, am I that predictable already? You’re gonna dump me for being boring now.”

Alex snorts and rolls his eyes, tapping Willie’s hip so he’ll scooch over enough to make space for him on the bench. “Funny. _If_ I was gonna dump you, it’d be over your opinions on Teddy Ruxpin.”

“Teddy bears shouldn’t talk and I stand by that.”

“You’re just mad you were too old for one when they were invented.”

Despite himself, Willie can feel his lips quirk. “Maybe.”

It’s so _easy_ with Alex. The way he makes him smile without even thinking about it, the way he feels so at peace with him, like maybe the world is crap and death is crap and everything is crap, but at least Alex is there. And once he got past the initial anxiety of it all, it was delightful to learn that Alex could give as good as he got with Willie’s teasing.

He hadn’t even realized he’d felt like his chest was being slowly crushed until the feeling vanished when Alex sat down next to him. It’s like breathing after being shoved underwater and kicking up to the surface again.

Alex reaches out for his arm that he’s still swinging lazily off the bench, pulling it back up to rest across his thigh. He toys with Willie’s rings absently, their bracelets clinking together softly in the quiet air of the museum.

“You went to the club last night, right?”

Willie swallows. “I had to. If I don’t-”

Alex squeezes his fingers. “I know. Are you okay?”

Willie doesn’t answer right away. He _can’t._ He’s probably fine, but the fact that Alex caught him in the museum right after a scream session and can definitely hear how rough his voice is probably isn’t good evidence that he’s okay.

And besides, he really isn’t sure.

Because he’s still all mixed up inside about the Caleb he’s known for the last decade and the Caleb who tried to jolt Alex out of existence being the same man. It’s hard to reconcile the two, and he still doesn’t want to believe that the man who offered him everything was willing to take his _everything_ away.

Alex is still running his thumb over Willie’s palm, waiting for an answer, and as he’s thinking it over, Alex brings his hand up quickly, and plants the lightest little kiss to Willie’s wrist, just under his bracelets.

Right where that years-old stamp lives, lying in wait under his skin.

Willie’s breath catches in his throat, and he can’t help the way that tears suddenly prick at the corners of his eyes. Alex doesn’t act like he’s done anything special, but the way he runs his thumb right over the place he’d just kissed tells Willie he knows exactly what he’s doing.

God, this boy will be the second death of him.

He licks his lip, and Alex meets his gaze steadily, the open question still in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think I’m okay.”

~

He doesn’t really mean to tag along. He’d just shown up at the studio right when Reggie had managed to beg Julie into going to the beach with him, and then of course Luke wanted to go too, and if Luke was gonna go then Alex was gonna go and if Alex was gonna go then he wanted Willie to be there and now.

Well now Willie is in the awkward position of being at the beach with his boyfriend, and really, _really_ not wanting to take off his shirt.

Because the thing is, even though almost no one can see him and the stretch of sand they’ve found is more or less deserted right now, he just.

He doesn’t want them to see it.

Alex knows about it, that purpleyellowred mottling on his back. The one that stretches from under his shoulderblade to the center of his spine, the one that upon close inspection matches the rectangular shape of a 1988 Chevy Silverado’s headlight. He’d shown it to Alex without a second thought, because he’s _Alex,_ and if anybody would accept the nasty permanent aftereffects of being hit by a truck, then it was definitely gonna be the guy who couldn’t even hear the words _pickle juice_ without gagging.

And he knows that it’s silly, because Julie and Luke and Reggie are the last people on earth who would make him feel insecure about it but.

But.

It’s ugly, and he doesn’t want them to see it.

So he doesn’t take off his shirt, and instead stretches out on one of the towels that Julie brought with them as she and two of her boys run towards the water. It’s one of those huge beach blanket towels, with room for two, and it surprises him a little when Alex takes advantage of that instead of following Luke and Reggie into the ocean.

Willie's laying on his stomach, arms pillowed under his head, and wishing he remembered what had happened to his Walkman all those years ago, because this was perfect music-and-chilling weather and he does really miss his Depeche Mode tape. 

Next to him, Alex hums some song he doesn’t know, tapping out the beat on his own stomach as he lays on his back with his eyes closed. Julie shrieks in the distance, followed by giggles that are blown away in the ocean wind under the hot hot sun.

The breeze toys with his hair, and he sighs, content.

Willie almost feels like he’s managed to doze off a little, the laughter of their friends and the ocean’s crashing waves and Alex’s quiet voice providing the most perfect kind of lullaby.

He startles to full awareness as questing fingers poke at his side, his stomach jumping with surprise as he sucks in a gasp through his nose. Alex’s thumb strokes the skin under his shirt’s hem like an apology, and he relaxes.

Alex has rolled onto his side to look at him, somewhere down by his ribs, and Willie closes his eyes again. If Alex wants to get all tactile in public, then he’s not going to stop him.

He figures out Alex’s goal a moment later when the hem of his crop top keeps inching up his back and he looks over to raise his eyebrows at him, amused. Alex ignores him and continues to ruck his shirt up, revealing the very edge of his bruise.

It doesn’t hurt him, it never has, but knowing that it’s there and that it’s out in the open is enough to give him the phantom chills of sensitivity.

Alex’s fingers trace over the feathery lines, whisper-soft against the mark left so so long ago by fate, pressed into his skin for the rest of his afterlife as a reminder of exactly how he ended up there in the first place.

Willie shivers as Alex’s calluses ghost over the bruise, catching against him just enough to feel them.

And he knows now that Alex _knows._ Alex knows why he didn’t take off his shirt, knows that he was aware of Willie’s self consciousness the second they’d arrived, knows that he’s breaking Alex’s heart by trying to hide the ugliness stamped across his back.

This feels like an apology, and Willie’s heart twists in his chest.

He doesn’t want Alex to feel guilty for inviting him, because he loves hanging out with their friends, and he loves that he can call them _their_ friends because it’s been so long since he’s been able to call anyone a real friend, maybe not _ever_ , and the thought that Alex feels guilty over feeling like he pressured Willie into joining them doesn’t sit right in his chest.

He nearly says something out loud but the words die in his throat because Alex has leant over. His mouth grazes over that mottled skin, his lips brushing so lightly over it that Willie would think that he imagined it if he hadn’t looked over just then.

If his heart hadn’t already stopped over thirty years ago, he thinks he might have died right there. Alex leans away and continues his sweeping ministrations with his thumb like he’s done nothing of note.

Willie buries his burning face in his arms.

~

He’s starting to wonder if Alex’s intent is to ruin him completely, and if it is, then he’s well on his way to accomplishing it.

But he doesn’t think Alex has it in him to be that calculated, and he’s pretty sure that it’s just the result of having a lot of love in a very sarcastic personality, and therefore nowhere to put it for a very long time.

And the way that Alex treats him, like his wounds that have long healed over are still something raw and tender, something to be treated with such delicacy that it makes his breath catch in his chest, makes his lungs seize and his throat constrict, the way that everything he does has purpose is just.

God, Willie can’t even handle it.

Because Alex does all of that without even thinking about it, like it's as easy as breathing for him. His affection is so freely given, and all he wants is to show Willie that he cares in every way he can think of to show it.

He’s got his left arm slung over Willie’s shoulders, pressed up to Willie’s right side on the couch in the garage, their legs pressed together so that everyone can fit on the sofa this time. Julie had claimed that rotating who had to sit on the floor was unfair and mean and it was very convenient that she’d come to this conclusion only _after_ she had returned with her bowl of popcorn to find that everyone else had claimed their seats and left her no room.

So she’s stuck between Luke and Reggie again, nearly in Luke’s lap, and Reggie is pressed up to Willie’s other side and he keeps trying to reach for the popcorn he can’t eat, and Willie makes a mental note to try to find out how Caleb is able to make food work for ghosts because the look on Reggie’s face every time he tries to go for the popcorn is kind of breaking his heart.

Willie’s already snaked his arm around Alex’s back to rest his hand on his hip, his other hand in the pocket of Alex’s hoodie. Alex had rolled his eyes when he’d done it, but he’d tucked his hand into the pocket as well, and laced their fingers together.

Julie’s pick of the night is something bright and animated that Willie had missed the name of, some movie that had come out after he’d died about a kid befriending a giant robot and getting the military involved.

He’s a little bit too distracted by Alex’s thumb stroking up and down his shoulder to pay attention to the movie, sue him.

Alex shifts his arm so he’s got it draped a little bit more over him, brushing at Willie’s hair and tucking it behind his ear before trailing his fingers back down over his jaw and letting them rest in the crook of Willie’s neck.

And this is kind of new, because Alex has started getting bolder with his affection in front of his friends, even if the only thing that’s keeping Julie and Luke from teasing them is the fact that Alex would absolutely snap back about their own obvious feelings for each other and nobody wants that whole mess to start.

And he’s pretty sure that Reggie just doesn’t tease Alex in front of him out of manners or something.

So when Alex’s hand presses against the side of his neck and draws him closer, it only takes him a little bit by surprise. He’s getting used to it, and he likes it a lot.

But it’s the gentle kiss to his temple that nearly breaks him.

Because Alex is observant, and Willie knows that Alex has seen the crack in his helmet, that he knows that it wasn’t the fall that killed him but the cement at the end where his head hit the pavement and caved in the thing that was supposed to save him. And yeah, Willie knows it’s a little bit dumb to still be wearing the same helmet that failed him but he can’t make himself let go of it, his mother’s warnings still echoing through that brain of his that bled out in the street nearly three decades ago.

And Alex just ghosted his mouth against that fatal injury like he’s trying to pour all his love into it and draw out as much of the hurt and trauma as he can.

Willie swallows, and squeezes Alex’s fingers.

“A little late to kiss it better, don’t you think?” He whispers, trying for levity but failing because he can hear how thick his voice has gotten.

Alex shrugs. “Worth a shot,” he says, his smile still pressed to Willie’s hair.

He huffs a laugh, and tucks up under Alex’s chin so he can hide in the collar of his own sweatshirt.

~

Standing in the cool night air after everyone has ditched them outside, Willie has to admit that for all the kinds of kisses that Alex has gifted him with, this is still his favorite; Alex’s hand on his jaw, with Willie’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, Alex smiling like he can’t help it with his palm pressed to the small of Willie’s back like he can keep him there forever if he just tries hard enough, and the way he always keeps his eyes closed when they break apart, lashes fluttering like he wants to stay in that moment forever.

Willie can relate.

And he can’t help himself when he draws Alex back in by the front of his shirt, Alex laughing against his lips.

Yeah. Still his favorite.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah hi i havent edited this at all bc reading it makes me feel like im intruding on them 
> 
> green acres for my sister bc its all she's watched for the last week. _dahling i love u but give me park avenue_
> 
> pls leave me a comment if you enjoyed and then go check out my other works!!


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